Christmas with the Carsons
by Hogwarts Duo
Summary: Charles & Elsie have finally retired, and this is their first Christmas in their new home. Will they let the holiday pass them by or will they celebrate it?


**Christmas with the Carsons**

The room was dark except for the warm light spilling from the fireplace. The curtains were drawn, both to keep out the cold and the first rays of the new day and to keep the cherished heat indoors. It was a snowy evening and while sitting together in the front room, watching the large snowflakes falling had been peaceful and enjoyable, it was time for bed as the fire in that room began to dwindle.

Charles rummaged around in the wood bin until he found the largest of the logs then placed it gently on the fire in the bedroom, hoping it would last well into the night. Then, as quickly as possible, he padded barefoot across the room and slipped beneath the chilly sheets, cuddling up to Elsie.

"Heavens, man! Your feet are like blocks of ice! What happened to the woolen socks I bought you to wear?" she scolded, trying to remove her own feet and legs as far away from him as possible.

"They're in the top drawer of my dresser, love, but I was rather hoping my lovely wife would indulge me this evening." He dropped a kiss to her shoulder then drew her even closer to his side, letting his lips dance a path from her shoulder to the sweet spot just below her right ear. "There's nothing on this earth that can warm my body, mind, and soul like she can," he whispered softly into her ear.

"Charles Edward Carson, you are such a smooth talker. It's a wonder some housekeeper in London didn't snag you up for herself all those years ago when you were a carefree bachelor," she teased, rolling over in his arms and snuggling further into his embrace. Reluctantly, she drew his feet and legs between her own, warming them as she did for him every night since their wedding.

"None of them could hold a candle to this beautiful Scottish housekeeper that I knew. She had eyes like the summer sky, lips redder than any rose, a voice sweeter than any sirens song, a body more luscious than …"

"Yes, well, she's older and things aren't as luscious as they might have been a decade ago," she said, with only a trace of remorse in her tone.

"Doesn't change the way I see you, Elsie. I've changed, as well. I'm not that strapping young man of my youth. I've gained a stone or two." He tilted her head so that he could reach her lips in a sweet, tender, moment.

"Be that as it may, I'm still grateful for every single day we have together. I never thought I'd enjoy retirement so much but just knowing that we are going to spend the remainder of our lives together, enjoying life to the fullest, makes me incredibly happy." She shifted so that she was halfway on top of him, her leg draped over his and her body pressed firmly against him. She kissed him with everything she had in her, pouring all of her love and adoration into this kiss.

"Mmmm, you do know the best ways to warm up your husband, Mrs. Carson," his deep voice rumbled as the kiss ended.

"I've had quite a few years to think on my techniques, and since we've married, my handsome husband has given me plenty of opportunities to practice. He's even discovered a few ways of lighting a different sort of fire for his housekeeper friend." She burst into giggles as he tickled her side while keeping a firm grip on her.

When her pleas for him to stop became more serious, he obliged and wrapped his arms around her, drawing their blankets closer to fend off the cold night air. "You know, if we cracked the curtains a little, we could fall asleep watching the snowfall and the sunlight wouldn't be too much in the morning," he suggested softly, his voice taking on a dreamy tone as if he could already see the image in his mind's eye.

"You stay right there and I'll take care of it," she said, already rolling out of his embrace and feeling the loss of his warmth. "I just got your feet warmed. I'll not do it again tonight," she warned. The small light from the fireplace illuminated her body, hidden behind the sensible nightgown. She heard Charles groan in appreciation and she turned to give him a wink over her shoulder. "Daft man! Nothing here you haven't seen before," she said with a smile and a shake of her head.

"True, but that is one sight I will never tire of seeing, love. There's something so very soft and sensual about you, and bathed in firelight, it's more than any man could wish for." He watched as she drew the curtains back a little, parting them enough so that they could barely make out the snowfall just beyond the window. "Perfect, love, now come back to bed and I'll do my best to get you warm again."

She returned to his side, fitting perfectly in his arms. The only sound in the room was the crackle of the logs on the fire and the occasional soft sigh of happiness from one or the other of them. It was Charles who decided to break the silence first. "Mr. Thompson and I are going into the woods tomorrow," he announced rather suddenly, as if it were such a mundane task as walking to the village or church on Sunday.

Elsie's head shot up, her brows furrowed. "What? Why? You know as much snow as we've had today, it will be a frigid mess outside." She ran her hand over his chest, over his shoulder, and up into his hair, her face now relaxed into a seductive smile. "I thought we might lounge in bed all day tomorrow, spend a lazy wintery day just keeping each other warm." Her voice was so soft and sultry that Charles nearly abandoned his plans, nearly swore to her that they'd never leave the cottage, let alone the bed, ever again.

"As lovely as that sounds, and believe you me, I'd like nothing better than to spend the day right here with you, I had another idea in mind. It's to be our first Christmas together, as man and wife, that is. It will be our first Christmas in our very own home, Elsie."

"I fail to see what that has to do with you catching your death of cold tomorrow traipsing around the woods with Mr. Thompson."

"Well, it was going to be a secret, but he was going to help me procure us a Christmas tree. Nothing large, mind you, just something small we could fit in the corner of the sitting room." He rolled onto his side so he could face her, could read her reactions to his words and dodge any pitfalls which might be lurking in the darkness of his plan.

"A Christmas tree," she asked, the surprise evident in her voice. "Why would we want a tree? We don't even have any decorations? No children to spoil? Just our small presents to each other," she added, trying to sound very casual about the whole affair.

He reached out and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek then down her arm until their fingers were linked. "Ever since I was a lad, I've dreamed of having my own home, my own family. Each Christmas, once I got older, I wondered what it would be like to go out into the woods, choose the perfect tree for my family, and bring it home. We'd decorate it, and later, we'd sit back and admire the beauty of it as we warm ourselves beneath a blanket by a fire." He brought their linked hands up to his mouth and lightly brushed his lips across her knuckles. "Sounds somewhat childish, but there you have it. I wanted to surprise you."

She brushed the errant curl from his forehead and cupped the side of his face in her hand. "You did. You managed to surprise me well and true. And what I'm hearing sounds lovely. When I was growing up on the farm, we didn't have a lot of money for such frivolities. But my parents always made sure I had something in my stocking on Christmas morning. Even if it was simply a piece of fruit and a stick of candy, there was always something." She closed her eyes and for a moment she was transported back to those childhood days, reliving the smell of an orange and a stick of peppermint on countless Christmas mornings.

Charles leaned forward and pressed a kiss to each of her eyes. "We could hang stockings, too, if you wanted. I don't recall ever having one of those. Father Christmas just sort of left something out and we all shared."

She opened her eyes, now bright with excitement and anticipation. "I could make us stockings, Charles. I'm sure I have enough material left from that shirt I sewed the other day. They wouldn't be elaborate, but they'd be something for us to hang by the fire. We can start our own Christmas traditions."

He nodded happily. "And I'm sure they have extra ornaments at Downton. I could go over early in the morning, right after breakfast, and see what I can find. We wouldn't need much."

She shook her head rather vigorously. "No, whatever goes on our tree will be something truly ours. I don't care if there's nothing but a key and a corkscrew on the tree. I want it to be well and truly ours."

He laughed softly. "You have a deal. I'll go find us the perfect tree. You work on the stockings. If I'm back in time, we could take a trip into the village, provided the snow isn't too bad. We could buy our very first ornament or two, as well as picking up a few things for each other. Those stockings won't fill themselves," he teased.

"And why won't they? I've been a very good girl this year. Surely, Father Christmas has noticed."

"Oh, he's noticed quite a few things about Elsie Hughes Carson and all of them to his utmost delight. He has absolutely no complaints. He would love to give her the moon, if only he could afford it."

She silenced him with a sweet, lingering kiss. "I don't need the moon or the stars either. I only need you, though I don't think I have enough cloth to make a stocking that large." She had to bite her bottom lip to stifle the giggle threatening to spill from her lips. In the end, she lost her battle and soon they were laughing and making their plans for the next day.

By nightfall the following day, there was a beautiful but modest tree perched in the Carson sitting room. Several glass balls in a variety of colors adorned the branches as did one key and one corkscrew, placed side by side on the tree. Over the hearth, hung two of the prettiest stockings Charles had ever seen. And a sprig of mistletoe was placed right inside the door, compliments of Mr. Thompson who felt it would be only appropriate to fully decorate the house. Charles had been very careful to hang it only after the man had left, ensuring that Elsie was spared any embarrassment and that he alone reaped the rewards.

He couldn't wait for Elsie to discover the contents of her stocking in a few days. He'd managed to purchase an orange, a peppermint stick, and a lovely new broach. It had cost him a little more than he'd planned to spend, but once he saw the broach, his mind was set.

Elsie was wrapped warmly in Charles's arms, staring intently into the fire. In truth, she was daydreaming about Christmas morning. She could just imagine Charles examining his stocking. She had also purchased an orange and some stick candy. But his biggest surprise would be the small wooden train she'd seen the Carter boy admiring as they were browsing the shop. Something about the lad reminded Elsie of her Charles as a young lad, desperately wanting something frivolous but never quite getting it. Perhaps the toy train would make up for the pair of rather practical socks she'd knitted him as part of his gift. She didn't really expect him to wear them, though. She quite enjoyed warming her husband, in any and every way she could.

As they drank the last of the wine in the bottle, the clock chimed midnight. "Care to take an old man to bed, love?"

"Only if that man has cold feet, a warm heart, and promises me we'll have our lazy day tomorrow," she chided, gently extracting herself from his arms.

"I hear it's supposed to snow again all day tomorrow. Fortunately for you, Mrs. Carson, I brought extra wood into the cottage. We have a stocked pantry. And I have nowhere else I would rather be."

She took his hand and guided him down the small hallway towards their bedroom. "Did I tell you it's supposed to be incredibly cold tonight? I hope you'll hold me extra close."

"It would be my pleasure, but only if you'll promise to keep my toes nice and toasty warm."

"We do make a perfect pair, Charles Carson, and I'm so very happy. This will be the best Christmas."

"Indeed it will, Elsie. A brand new wife, new traditions, and I'm happier than I've ever been. Who needs Father Christmas when I have everything I've ever wanted right here in my arms."

She kissed him soundly, leading him back towards the bed. By the time she was done, they'd both be nice and toasty warm, sated, and sleeping with happy, contented smiles on their faces.

**The End.**

**A/N:** Thanks for reading. Reviews are welcomed and encouraged. I hope you've enjoyed the story.


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